


Been Strong for Too Long

by TheStigsWriterCousin



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Abusive Foster Parent, Blackmail, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Fred is Fine, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Manipulation, Rape, Rape Recovery, Riverdale Kink Meme, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Whipping, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-03-14 15:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13592667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStigsWriterCousin/pseuds/TheStigsWriterCousin
Summary: Jughead is raped by his foster father and he goes to the only family he has left for help. They take care of him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a prompt on the Riverdale Kink Meme:
> 
> Jughead is raped by his foster father and he tries to hide it for as long as he can but it either keeps happening or or he can't take it any more, finally telling Archie what has happened.  
> Would love lots of protective Archie and FP finding out and getting the serpents to 'take care of it'
> 
> Please heed the warnings and tags! There isn't much detail here, but there will be detailed flashbacks.
> 
> Also, this is my first Riverdale story since getting into the show. It's set after season 1 ended, the only canon divergence being that Fred isn't hurt. He's totally fine. So yeah.

It was almost three in the morning when Jughead's fingers twist the knob on the Andrew's front door, thankful that he hadn't given back his spare key after he moved out. Walking in, the door shut heavier behind him than he meant and he stilled, listening for any sign that he'd been heard. When the silence remained, he kept walking, legs shaking underneath him as he made his way to the couch in the living room.

 

He stumbled, his shin knocking into a chair in the darkness. They must have moved some things around since the last time he'd visited. He grabbed the arm of the chair, steadying himself as he bent down slowly to rub the sore spot on his leg. He took a few more steps, finally finding the couch before the light was switched on, startling him enough to send him spinning around.

 

He blinked a couple of times, caught off guard by the sudden brightness, before Archie came into his view. He was in his t-shirt and boxers, carrying a baseball bat.

 

“Jughead?” Archie set the bat down against the wall, walking over to his friend.

 

“Hey..” Jughead tried not to tense as Archie approached, but he couldn't help it. His body was still reeling with adrenaline, which was probably the only reason his legs hadn't caved out from under him. His natural fight or flight response was hard to overcome, but he managed to keep himself from flinching openly.

 

“..What's up?” The redhead sat down on the arm of the couch, next to where Jughead was standing stiffly, an undertone of curiosity and suspicion in his voice as he took in his friend's appearance. The boy was clearly on edge. His eyes were red and Archie could see that his lip was split when he finally stopped biting it. The weirdest thing, though, was that Jughead didn't have his hat on, just a thin sweater and loose-fitting pajama bottoms.

 

Jughead opened his mouth, unsure of what kind of excuse he could possibly give for being in their living room in the middle of the night unannounced. Before he could speak, Fred stepped off the stairs.

 

“What's going on?” While Archie had looked wide awake, Fred had clearly been woken by the ruckus he'd caused.

 

“Nothing. Sorry, I'll just-” Jughead took a step to walk away, but Archie reached out to stop him. As soon as he felt the firm hand around his forearm he jerked away, eyes wide.

 

Archie pulled his hand back like it had been burned, staring at his friend for a moment before glancing over to his dad, trying to figure out if he was the only one that had noticed how bizarre Jughead's reaction had been.

 

“You okay, Jug?” Fred asked calmly, confirming Archie's suspicion that something was definitely wrong.

 

Jughead's eyes bounced from Archie to his dad, like a wild animal that had been cornered. “I-I'm fine.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, knowing full well how unconvincing his answer had sounded.

 

“Why don't we sit and talk?” Fred took a tentative step forward to test Jughead's reaction, stopping when the boy took a step back.

 

Archie just stared, knowing that something wasn't right, but not knowing what to do about it so he let his dad lead. He saw the way that Jughead was putting distance between them so he slowly slid off the arm of the couch and away, giving his friend a few feet of extra space.

 

Jughead was breathing quickly through his parted lips, frozen as if he was deciding between staying or bolting. He could feel the endorphins wearing off and his hands started to shake as he watched Archie moving away from him. What was he doing? He'd come to Archie's because it was a place that he felt safe and now he was keeping both Archie and Fred at arm's length. Why? They would never hurt him.

 

He took a deep breath and licked his drying lips, trying to relax himself. “Okay..” He reached out to steady himself on the large chair next to him, more and more aware of the pain shooting up and down his body. His body was coming down from the shock, the adrenaline was wearing off and he felt dizzy.

 

Jughead blinked and when he opened his eyes he was sitting in the plush chair, wincing as he felt the leather rub against his sore skin.

 

“Dad..” Archie waved his father over as soon as he noticed Jughead's eyes were open.

 

“What happened?” Jughead shifted his weight to his side, only slightly alleviating the pain.

 

“You fainted.” Fred walked over, gauging the boy's expression with each step.

 

“Oh.” He brushed a strip of hair out of his face, not sure what else to say.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was light, but the question wasn't and Jughead just shook his head. “Do you want me to call Gordon to come get you?”

 

“No!” He jerked in his seat and his face contorted in pain before he could stop it.

 

“Jug, what the hell-” Archie leaped forward, but Fred's hand on his chest halted his movement before he could move much closer.

 

“Don't, Arch..” He warned. “What happened?”

 

Jughead just shook his head again, feeling his face heating up, not sure if it was shame or anger. Maybe it was both, but if he opened his mouth to speak, there wouldn't be any going back and he wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

 

“You're hurt.” It wasn't a question. “You can either let me help you or I can take you to the hospital.”

 

Jughead's lip thinned as he considered the options. He hated asking for help or feeling weak and nothing had ever made him feel as weak as what had happened that night. He knew he needed to tell someone and he knew that Archie and Fred would help him, but there was no guarantee they would look at him the same afterward.

 

“Let us help you, Juggie..”

 

Archie's kind voice broke his resolve. He stood, slowly, turning around. He couldn't face them while he pulled the shirt over his head, revealing the raised, red stripes across his pale skin. He kept the soft cloth around his upper arms, bunched up in front of him as he waited for their responses.

 

“Get me the kit, Archie.” Fred requested as he moved closer to Jughead to get a better look, noticing how the lines didn't stop at his waistband. “How far down do these go?”

 

“Far enough.” He tightened his grip.

 

“I'm going to get you some water. You need to lay down on the couch, pants off.” He could hear the sharp breath and he instantly clarified. “You can use the blanket to cover up, but I need to be able to get **all** of this cleaned.”

 

By the time Fred and Archie walked back in, he was laid out like the older man told him, the blanket spread across his back. They could see the lines running all the way down to mid-thigh all the way from the doorway, the bright red hard to miss.

 

Archie looked over to his dad, but didn't say anything, not wanting Jughead to feel self conscious. Jughead still had his shirt in front of him, holding it tightly to his chest, hiding his face behind his fallen hair. Jughead had been in plenty of fights. He'd seen him angry and disappointed and upset, but Archie had never seen him look so scared. The closest had been when when FP had been arrested for murder and even that was mostly just shock.

 

Fred tugged the table closer to the couch, sitting down on it. He handed Jughead a couple of pain pills and a bottle of water, giving him enough room to turn to the side to take them. Starting at the top, working his way down, he cleaned and put ointment on each stripe, glad to see that the majority of them hadn't broken the skin. He slipped the blanket down half way across Jughead's backside, exposing as little skin as possible as he worked.

 

He re-covered the boy's back as he moved to the lower half. He barely raised the blanket before setting it back down. “Archie, go upstairs.”

 

“What? Why?” He hadn't exactly been helping, but he wanted to be there for his friend. He certainly wasn't hurting anything.

 

“It's okay.” Jughead's voice was distant, muffled against the cushion.

 

“What is it? Is it bad?” Archie was confused, Fred had been making good progress.

 

Fred sighed. “He was raped.” He whispered through a closed jaw, unable to stop clenching it since he'd seen the smear of blood on Jughead's thigh and realized what it meant that it hadn't come from any of the welts.

 

Archie's eyes widened at his dad's words before looking over to his friend, doing his best to hide despite how exposed he was. “What do we do?” He had no idea how to handle that type of situation, but he would do whatever he could to help Jughead. They both would.

 

“That's up to Jug.” Fred went back to work, making sure that he had cleaned what he could. “We should call the police, maybe go to the hospital.”

 

“No, I don't..” He shook his head. “I just want to go to sleep.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“What?” Archie balked. “Dad, we **need** to go to the police!”

 

Fred interrupted, seeing the way that Jughead was starting to tremble. “What we **need** to do is give him some space and get a good night's rest. We'll talk in the morning.” Archie almost protested, but his father's pointed glare stopped him. “Do you want to take a quick shower first?”

 

Jughead nodded. He was so tired, but he also felt dirty.

 

“Try to keep your back dry.” Fred helped him wrap the blanket around his waist and stand. “Archie, get him some clothes to wear to bed.”

 

Fred stood outside the bathroom door the entire time Jughead was inside, just in case he needed help. It was only a few minutes before he walked out, hair only slightly damp.

 

“You're in my room tonight, kid.” He walked Jughead down to the room at the opposite end of the hall from Archie's, pushing the door open.

 

He almost protested, but it was just after four in the morning and after everything he'd been through that night, he was just too tired. There was something about the scent on the pillows that reminded Jughead of his own father and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the warnings! This chapter contains rape, manipulation and violence. Poor Jughead :)

Jughead sat his school bag on the floor just inside the door as he walked through the door, a little surprised to see no one around. Usually, his foster mother, Donna, would have some music on as she finished tidying the house for the day. Her daughter, Fiona, would be working on her school work on the couch.

 

He smiled thinking about how much she reminded him of Jellybean, it was honestly one of the best parts about being placed with their family. He liked to ask her about her homework and be told off because they both knew that she was smarter than him when it came to school work. He liked that she would sit with him under a shared blanket when they watched a movie and she'd squeak when he poked her with his toes.

 

But the house was quiet. Hr grabbed a soda from the fridge and started to make his way up the stairs when he heard the front door open. “Anybody home?” Gordon, his foster father, called out.

 

“Yeah.” He hollered back, making his way back to the front of the house.

 

“No girls?” Jughead shook his head. “Damn. I was hoping I'd catch them before they left for the weekend.”

 

“They go somewhere?” Jughead hadn't heard anything about a trip, but it wasn't abnormal for him to be left out of plans. He tried to keep to himself as much as possible.

 

“They'll be back Sunday morning.” He took a seat on the couch. “Have a seat.”

 

Jughead was a little put off by the man's stiff posture and the way he sat on the edge of the seat. He hadn't done anything wrong, not according to the rules that had been laid out for him when he first arrived. “What's up?” He sat at the end of the couch, but their knees were still almost touching since Gordon was in the center.

 

“This is your third foster home, right?” The man was playing with his hands and Jughead nodded. The first, he'd run away within a week. They put up a good front at first, but they were drugs out of their house and Jughead wanted nothing to do with it. The second family was great and he actually really liked being there until one day his case worker showed up to take him away. She told him that the family didn't think they were a good fit and he spent the entire night trying to figure out what he'd done wrong and why they didn't want him.

 

“You know that if it doesn't work out here, you'll probably end up in a group home..”

 

Jughead nodded again. “Did I do something..?” He felt like they were doing well and he had heard some bad things about the group home.

 

“No, no.. Nothing like that.” Gordon smiled at him. “You've been great. The girls love you.”

 

“Okay.. Well-”

 

“The thing is..” He was interrupted with a hand on his knee. “I never wanted another kid.” Jughead wasn't sure what he was getting at, so he sat still and listened. “I work hard to give my family everything they need and most of what they want. That's why you're here. My wife wanted another child, but we're past being able to have our own.”

 

That made Jughead a little sad, thinking that a nice, good mom like Donna hadn't been able to have more than one child when women like his own mother got more than they cared about or wanted.

 

“I like making my wife happy, Jughead.” Gordon's hand was still on his knee. “But we've been married for a very, very long time and.. She's not so concerned with keeping me happy these days..” The man's fingers flexed on his skin and Jughead just stared at it. “With as hard as I work and with everything I've given to my family.. To you.. I think I deserve to be happy. Don't you?”

 

Jughead didn't know how to answer that as he stared at the hand that had started to burn a hole in his skin. He turned to the side slightly, casually pulling away from the grip. Undeterred, Gordon draped the hand over the back of the couch and around the boy's shoulders.

 

“I'd be happy to keep you around, but you're going to have to start pulling your weight..” He leaned in, crowing Jughead's space.

 

He pressed himself against the arm of the couch, trying to get as much room as possible without actually running away. He **really** didn't want to go to the group home, but he was getting more uncomfortable by the second. “What do you want?” He had a feeling he knew the answer, but he had to ask.

 

Gordon just smiled, his right hand reaching over to stroke the inside of Jughead's thigh. When he tried to stand, not able to sit still any longer, the man's hand around his shoulder gripped him tightly, pulling him back down.

 

“You don't want to go to the group home, do you?” His heavy hand was still, holding him in place.

 

Jughead huffed. “I'm sure it's not so bad.” He grabbed Gordon's hand from his leg and shrugged off the one on his shoulder, moving to the other side of the table instantly to put something between them.

 

“Fi will miss you..” He sat back against the couch, a cocky grin on his face. Jughead kept walking, refusing to respond. “You know why she likes you so much?” He called out just before Jughead's hand hit the doorknob. “Because I haven't touched her since you got here.”

 

Jughead froze.

 

“Like I said.. She'll miss you.”

 

His hand tightened around the knob. He stood still, knowing that he wasn't going to open the door, but not ready to admit it to the other man.

 

“Come on, Jug. We both know you're not going anywhere.”

 

When Jughead turned around, his jaw tightened at the sight of Gordon's smile. He **knew** about Jughead's sister, he'd seen how he and his daughter had connected. He knew that the boy would protect her rather than running away. He walked back over to the sofa, eyes fixed straight ahead of him, refusing to look Gordon in the eye.

 

“Get on your knees.” He didn't sugarcoat it, knowing that he had Jughead in a position that he wouldn't argue.

 

Jughead never cared much about sex, it just didn't really interest him. He didn't treasure his virginity like it was something precious and honestly, he couldn't care less if he got rid of it at any time. What upset him was another person having control over him, even though he could technically leave at any time.

 

Being free was the one good thing that came from his messed up family. Taking care of himself and being in control of his own life was the one thing that he had that he thought no one could take away from him. He stepped around the table and did as he was told, closing his eyes. His lips were pursed tightly together in anger and he tried not to shiver as he heard the zipper raking downward.

 

“Relax.”

 

He felt Gordon's thumb drag across his lip and he forced himself to let out a breath, softening his lips. He was just going to do what he had to and get it over with.

 

“Good boy.. Such pretty lips.” The fingers moved across his cheek. “Open your eyes.”

 

Jughead held out for a moment before slowly opening his eyes, keeping his gaze on the floor. Gordon's hand moved into his hair, knocking his hat off as he wound his fingers through the dark hair, yanking his head forward until he was looking at the man's face.

 

He let his head be maneuvered, trying his best to block out the feeling and the bitter taste on his tongue. Gordon's hips rolled and twisted and Jughead was thankful at least that he went slowly, but he knew it wasn't for his sake. He was savoring it.

 

By the time he was done, Jughead's jaw was sore. He closed his empty mouth, counting the seconds until he could go brush his teeth. It didn't taste good, but it hadn't been so bad. Not that he liked it, but if that was all he had to do to keep Fiona safe until he could figure something out, he could live with it.

 

Unfortunately, that had only been the beginning. Gordon slipped into his room every other night whenever he was home, which wasn't too often. He worked for a drilling company working ten days in a row, then took five days off. Each time, he was a little more bold, a little rougher and they went a little further. By the end of the month, Jughead had his face pressed into a pillow as Gordon slammed into him from behind. He'd prepped the boy, but it was still painful and overwhelming since it was his first time.

 

Still, he endured it because everything else had been going pretty well for him. At most, it was an inconvenience. He also had no clue what he could possibly do about it. He knew that if he went to the police, the entire family would side with Gordon and even if they didn't, no one ever listened to kids like Jughead.

 

It didn't take his foster father long to get tired of Jughead's passivity. One day, he'd had a tough time at work and he came home angrier than Jughead had ever seen him. The tension through dinner was impossible to miss as they ate in silence.

 

The evening dragged on and Jughead was just waiting for the ball to drop, his entire body tense and aware. He was getting ready for bed, slipping his boxers on after drying his hair when his door opened slowly. Silently.

 

He dropped his towel and his shoulders slumped, ready to take whatever was coming. Gordon's hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss and he zoned out. He thought about the new novel he was writing and before long, his foster father was pulling back roughly.

 

He was yanked out of his head by a loud smack and a stinging sensation across his cheek. His eyes snapped forward, the man in front of him coming back into focus as his hand came up to his face. He was stunned and the air was heavy between them.

 

Jughead took a step back at the same time that Gordon lunged at him, grabbing him by the arms. He yanked back, bringing a foot up to try to kick the man away from him, but he was already too close to get any leverage.

 

Gordon twisted his arms, forcing the shorter teen onto the bed before sitting on top of him, straddling his waist. Jughead was more scrappy than strong and their position wasn't giving him much room to get away.

 

Gordon let go of an arm just long enough to backhand him. Jughead threw a punch with his free hand, but he missed his mark and he was grabbed again, both arms pressed into the bed. His chest was rising and falling quickly and Jughead realized that for the first time, he was genuinely scared of what was going to happen. He thought that they'd done everything and he'd never been more than slightly anxious, but he had also never thought that Gordon would actually hurt him on purpose.

 

When the man let go of his hands, tearing his boxers off, Jughead stayed still. There was no doubt in his mind that if he managed to get away, Gordon would find another person in the house to take his anger out on.

 

When the man entered him with nothing but spit he cried out only to be muffled by a thick hand over his mouth. His fingers dug into the sheets and he squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to hyperventilate, feeling like he couldn't get a deep enough breath. He kept thinking to himself while it was happening that he was finally going to tell someone. When it was over, he rolled onto his side, pain shooting through his body and he could feel the bruises forming on his face.

 

If he didn't tell, he knew it would just keep getting worse. He didn't want to go to the police, they would take his statement and either throw it in the trash or they'd talk to Gordon to get his side of the story. Neither of those options would work in his favor.

 

He tried to call Betty, knowing that she would believe him and would stand by him, but it went straight to voicemail. Then he called Archie and they set a time to meet at Pop's later in the day, but he never showed. He got a quick text apology later that something had come up and Jughead told him not to worry about it.

 

When he thought about who else he could talk to, he couldn't think of anyone. If Archie was busy, it was almost a guarantee that it was with Veronica, not that he would want to tell her anyway. She would find some way to make it about her and while Jughead would normally appreciate the deflection, it wouldn't help the situation.

 

They had promised that they would stick together, but it had been getting harder and harder for them to make time for each other lately. With their breakup lingering over them, it's no wonder Betty was avoiding him and Veronica and Archie were still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship so they were always busy with each other. He stared at his phone and he realized that he'd been left behind. He didn't have anyone to talk to.

 

The next time, Gordon twisted his arms behind his back hard enough that he thought they were going to break and no amount of squirming and struggling was enough to get the man off of him. He was a solid six inches taller than Jughead with at least 75 pounds of muscle more than him thanks to his physically demanding job.

 

The time after that, he showed up at Archie's after. Donna and Fiona had taken another weekend trip and Gordon had waited until he was fast asleep to jump him. He'd taken him dry and hard and just when Jughead thought it was almost over, the man wrapped his hands around his throat like he was trying to squeeze the life out of him.

 

He panicked, kicking and punching as hard as he could, landing a few good blows to Gordon's face before he started to feel unconsciousness creeping up on him. He woke up a few minutes later on his stomach, the older man standing over him with his belt in hand. When the first hit landed, he tried to pull away, but his feet and hands had been tied to the bed.

 

He thought he was going to die as the belt came down on him over and over. He could smell the copper in the air and feel the wetness on his back as the leather broke the skin. He screamed and begged for the man to stop, something he'd never done before, but was ignored. He would stop when he was done and the more Jughead protested, the worse it was going to be, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle his cries, praying that he would pass out again.

 

At some point, he stopped being able to feel it, his body had begun to shut down along with his mind. He had no idea how much time had passed since the bonds that held him down had been removed, but he eventually dressed and made his way to his truck. He knew that leaving would make Gordon angry, but if he stayed, he wasn't sure he would make it through the night.

 

He didn't really make a conscious decision to go to Archie's, he somehow just found himself there, as if somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized it as a safe place. He hadn't planned on telling Archie or Fred what happened, he was just going to crash there for the night so that he could rest without fearing for his safety.

 

And then they found him and when Archie reached for him, he **flinched**. Then, Mr. Andrews was trying to find out what was wrong with him and he backed away, scared to let the older man near him. That's when he knew he had to say something. If there was anyone in the world that would never hurt him or let him down, it was those two.

 

So, he let them help. He had no idea how he was going to get out of the mess he was in, but he was relieved to at least not be going through it alone.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning couldn't come quickly enough for Archie. He tossed and turned all night, feeling sick about everything that had happened to Jughead, stuck between wanting to check on him constantly and wanting to let him rest. Just as the sun began to pour in through his window, he heard his father getting ready downstairs and he jumped out of bed. He stopped just outside of the kitchen, hearing Fred's voice on the phone.

 

“Yeah, I guess they're doing a movie marathon or something? They don't really tell me much.” He laughed casually. “We'll bring him back home after dinner if that's all right. Thanks, you too.”

 

“Who was that?” Archie stepped into the kitchen as his dad hung up the phone.

 

“Gordon.” He set the phone down, his fake smile fading.

 

“Dad! We can't let him go back there!” Archie caught himself mid-sentence and lowered his tone, not wanting to wake Jughead up, but panicking at the thought of his friend going back there.

 

“We're not. Archie, listen to me,” Fred walked over to him, his face serious. “I need you to keep Jughead here until I get back, okay?”

 

Archie didn't like the look in his father's eyes, but he nodded. “What are you going to do?”

 

“I'm going to take care of it.” He patted Archie on the arm before walking past him and out of the house.

 

Archie had no idea what his dad was going to do, but if it would keep Jughead safe, he didn't care. He walked over to the fridge, opening it up to pull out a pack of bacon and a carton of eggs. Twenty minutes later, he had two big plates that he carried upstairs, fumbling with them as he knocked on his dad's door.

 

“Jug?” He listened, hearing a slight rustling. “I made some breakfast. Can I come in?” He barely heard the soft 'yeah' from the other side and his suspicion was confirmed when he walked in and his friend still had his face buried in the pillow.

 

“Hey.” Jughead croaked out, throat sounding raw as his hand came up to rub it gently.

 

“Hey. How do you feel?” Archie sat the plates down on the bedside table, scooting the lamp back to make room. “I can get you some more aspirin..”

 

“Yeah, thanks.” He sat up while Archie disappeared into the bathroom to grab a few pills and a glass of water for him.

 

As Jughead threw back the painkillers, Archie got a glimpse of the purple bruises forming across his throat and his heart felt like it stopped. It was one thing to know that Jughead had been hurt, but the mental image of his foster father with his hands around Jughead's throat, how scared he must have been.. How easily he could have been _killed_.

 

“I'm gonna go get some juice.” Archie excused himself, pausing to sit at the bottom of the stairs, taking deep breaths to calm himself as he felt his eyes welling up. He really, really needed to be strong for Jughead, but he couldn't stop thinking that there was no way that this was the first time this had happened. Why hadn't he gotten help sooner?

 

He ran his hands through his hair, ignoring the way that they were shaking as he stood and made his way to the kitchen. None of that mattered- he had to keep telling himself- all that mattered was keeping Jughead safe and helping him heal. He could do that. He filled up two glasses of orange juice, giving himself one last deep breath before making his way back up stairs.

 

“Here you go.” He sat at the end of the bed, handing Jughead a glass of juice in exchange for one of the plates of bacon and eggs. “Thanks.”

 

They ate in relative silence, Archie not knowing what to say and Jughead focusing on eating slowly, taking small bites.

 

“You want to watch a movie?” Archie broke the silence.

 

“Archie..” Jughead looked at him as if he were disappointed. “I have to get back.” He set his plate to the side, standing.

 

Archie followed him, standing along side him as he moved to block the door. “You don't have to.”

 

“Yes, I do.” Jughead bit back at him.

 

“My dad called Gordon this morning.” Archie told him.

 

Jughead's face paled. “What?”

 

Archie quickly realized what his friend must have been thinking and corrected himself. “He didn't tell him anything, just that we were going to be watching movies all day. He said it's okay if we bring you back after dinner.”  
  


Jughead ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the soreness in his shoulder. “Fine.”

 

They settled into the living room, Archie letting Jughead spread out on his side on the couch. Instead of a movie, they settled for binge-watching an old series on Netflix. They both zoned out, barely paying attention, but glad for the distraction nonetheless.

 

A few hours later there was a knock on the door and Archie stood to answer it as Jughead shifted in his seat, just enough to peak and see who it was. Neither of them had expected to see a group of South Side Serpents standing there, holding out Jughead's jacket. Archie took it slowly, glancing back over his shoulder to his friend, both equally confused.

 

The Serpents just nodded and walked away, their bikes roaring loudly as the rode away. Jughead stared at the jacket in his friend's hands, trying to figure out what the hell was going on when he realized that he'd left his jacket at his foster home. The Serpents were there..

 

“Archie.” Jughead stood, the muscles in his neck straining as he tensed his jaw. “Why were the Serpents at my house?”

 

“I don't know.” He looked down at the jacket, his own eyes wide. “I swear, Jug, I don't know.”

 

“I have to go.” Jughead rushed passed Archie, grabbing the jacket and throwing it on as he ran out to his truck.

 

Archie ran right behind him, opening the passenger door just in time before Jughead took off, buckling himself in quickly. He looked over to Jughead, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his posture stiff from where he was trying to keep his back off of the seat.

 

They could see the plumes of smoke rising from far away and both boys were barely holding it together as they pulled up to see the house engulfed in flames.

 

“Holy shit..” Archie cursed as he stepped out of the car, a block away behind the Police barricade but still feeling the heat. “My dad said he was going to take care of it.. This isn't what I was picturing..”

 

Jughead stood next to the truck, eyes wide, mouth gaping open. He didn't know what to say or even what to feel as he watched the flames climbing high into the sky, firefighters rushing back and forth, Police pushing people backward.

 

His mind was jumping back and forth between emotions from relief, knowing that his foster mother and sister weren't home to dread at wondering if Gordon **was** home. He wasn't even sure that the man was **in** the house, but the ice running through his veins told him that he was. He didn't know what to think- to be happy that the man wouldn't be able to hurt him or anyone else or terrified at what had happened.

 

“Jug.. Let's go.” Archie tapped him on the arm, pulling him back to the truck without much resistance, his friend in a sort of daze. “Come on, I'll drive.”

 

Jughead let himself be led to the passenger seat, Archie driving them back to his house in complete silence. Or maybe he did talk and Jughead just didn't hear him, too caught up in his thoughts. They sat in the living room, waiting for Fred to get home from work, neither even bothering to turn the television or or strike up a conversation. When he finally walked through the door, both boys glared up at him with so many questions.

 

“Dad!” Archie stood quickly enough to knock the chair back slightly. Fred sighed as he looked from his son to Jughead. “..What did you do?”

 

“I told the Serpents what he did-” He held up a hand to Jughead, qualifying his statement before the boy could worry. “No details, just that he hurt you. I didn't know what they'd do..”

 

“You knew.. What else did you think they were gonna do?”

 

“You're right.” Fred rubbed his hand across his face and dragged his fingers through his beard. “And he deserved it.”  
  


“What about his family? What about Jughead?” Archie looked over to his friend. “Where are they going to live? What are they gonna to do?”

 

“Everything's going to be fine. It was an accident and their insurance will take care of everything.” Fred spoke it like it was an absolute truth. “Tell me that you understand. It was an accident.”

 

Archie stared at his dad, not believing what was happening, but reminding himself how badly Jughead had been hurt and how it would only have gotten worse if someone didn't do something. “Yeah..” He gulped, scared but trusting his father. “It was an accident. Right, Jug?”

 

“Yeah.” Jughead nodded, eyes staring out in front of him, unfocused and completely unaware of Fred walking over to him, putting his hand on Jughead's shoulder.

 

“You can stay here until Donna gets back and while they're getting everything sorted.. We'll figure it out, okay?” Fred squeezed slightly, trying to reassure the boy, but pulled back when he felt him stiffen. “Let's order in.”

 

The air in the room was heavy, but dinner gave them something to distract themselves with and the boys turned in for the night shortly after, Jughead moving into Archie's room like when he lived there before. The bedroom was silent, but neither boy slept as the clock ticked by, the quiet broken by Archie's soft voice.

 

“Jug?”

 

“Yeah?” Jughead replied through the dark.

 

“Do you..” Archie shifted onto his side, trying to figure out how to phrase the question. “Do you want to sleep up here?”

 

He thought Jughead was going to turn him down or ignore him, but a few moments later, he heard a shuffling and then felt the bed dip. Archie scooted back against the wall, making room for the other boy as he crawled under the covers without a word.

 

“Can I..?” Archie reached a hand out slowly.

 

Jughead hummed a quiet 'yes' and moved in a little closer, letting Archie's arm drape across his waist, hand resting gently on his back as he was drawn in. He rested his head against Archie's chest, too emotionally drained to feel embarrassed at the contact and too trusting of his best friend to feel afraid of the touch.

 

“I'm sorry I couldn't protect you..” Archie whispered into Jughead's hair. Instead of a response, all Archie heard was a soft snoring sound as Jughead finally fell asleep against him.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter! Sorry :(

Hello! I just wanted to let you guys know this work is actually completed!

I apologize to everyone expecting another chapter because I originally did have one more planned out, but I just haven't been able to make it work. There was a time jump and it's just ended up cheesy and unfulfilling.

Take the ending however you'd like, Jug and Archie can end up getting together or Archie can help him heal as a friend. I may write a sequel eventually that have another plot and touches on how his recovery went, but it's at the bottom of my to-do list.


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